Hello Detective

A Study in Pink Part 7

"It's an experiment." He whined.

"Keep looking, guys." Lestrade instructed. "Or you could help us properly and I'll stand down."

"This is childish." Sherlock whined.

"Well, I'm dealing with a child. Sherlock, this is our case. I'm letting you in, but you do not go off on your own." Lestrade said, and turned to me. "And you, you were supposed to keep me updated if you found anything."

"I'm sorry, we were following a lead." I said.

"What, so you set up a pretend drugs bust to bully me?" Sherlock said, not paying attention to the conversation between you and Lestrade.

"It stops being pretend if they find anything." Lestrade pushed.

"I am clean!" Sherlock announced.

"Is your flat?" Anderson nagged.

"All of it?" Lestrade asked.

"I don't even smoke." Sherlock said, revealing his nicotine patch.

"Neither do I, so lets work together." Lestrade said. Sherlock rolled back up his sleeve.

"We found Rachel." Lestrade announced.

"Who is she?" I asked.

"Jennifer Wilson's only daughter." Lestrade answered.

"Daughter? Why would she write her daughter's name? Why?" Sherlock talked to himself.

"Never mind that, we found the case. According to someone the murderer has the case, and we found it in the hands of our favorite psychopath." Anderson said, pointing a gloved hand to the pink case sitting near Lestrade.

"I'm not a psychopath, Anderson. I am a high-functioning sociopath. Do your research." Sherlock retorted. He turned back to Lestrade and continued about the case. "You need to bring Rachel in, you need to question her. I need to question her."

"She's dead." Lestrade said.

"Excellent. How and when, why?" Sherlock asked. "Is there a connection? There has to be."

"Well, I doubt it, since she's been dead for 14 years. Technically she was never alive. Rachel was Jennifer Wilson's stillborn daughter, 14 years ago." Lestrade explained.

"No... that's... That's not right. How? Why would she do that? Why?" Sherlock asked confused.

"Why would she think of her daughter in her last moments? Yup, sociopath, I'm seeing it now." Anderson answered rudely.

"She didn't think about her daughter, she scratched her name on the floor with her fingernails. She was dying. It took effort, it would have hurt." Sherlock retorted.

"The victims all took the poison themselves, he makes them take it. Maybe... I don't know, he talks to them. Maybe he used the death of her daughter somehow." I offered. Lestrade nodded his head.

"Yeah, but that was ages ago. Why would she still be upset?" Sherlock shouted, frustrated. I looked up at him, surprised and almost saddened by his lack of sensitivity. I looked down and pinched the bridge of my nose.

"Not good?" Sherlock asked, knowing he doesn't fully understand human feelings like love and loss.

"No, Sherlock. Not good." I answered. He stepped closer to me until we were only inches apart and lowered his voice.

"If you were dying... If you'd been murdered in your very last seconds, what would you say?" Sherlock asked.

"Please, God, let me live." I scoffed.